


Life At The Stars

by writingradionoises



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, F/F, Ghosts, Loss of Faith, M/M, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 21:54:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10448391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingradionoises/pseuds/writingradionoises
Summary: You really didn't believe it at first when he got the call. You thought it was just another one of his dumb pranks. But when you heard Beth sobbing violently with Hannah's crying, you had a feeling this wasn't.





	

You really didn't believe it at first when he got the call. You thought it was just another one of his dumb pranks. But when you heard Beth sobbing violently with Hannah's crying, you had a feeling this wasn't. Your name is Christopher Hartley, and your best friend just committed suicide. Hannah tried to give details, but you didn't want them. Everything you had eaten that day was already bubbling up in your throat. You'd known Josh for years, eleven years if you're being exact. Yes, you'd known he was mentally unstable on what he'd like to call "crazy pills," or antidepressants and such. He was always such a happy kid around you, though, you never saw the signs. You wish you did. God, why were you such a shit best friend? "Chris . . . Chris are you still there?" Hannah sniffled over the phone, you snapped out of your thought when you heard her once more. "Y . . . yeah. I'm still here. Just . . . Oh my God, Hannah, why did this happen?" You questioned, more towards yourself than her. "I . . . I don't know. He was . . . he was always so happy . . ." She answered. "I'm going to be sick, do . . . do you want me to call back later or something?" "Tomorrow? I-I have to help Beth calm down, and call everyone else. Just . . . Don't do something stupid." Hannah hung up on you as you stared at the phone for a moment, then rushing into the bathroom. You quickly lifted up the toilet lid and fell to your knees, holding up your glasses as this morning's breakfast fell into the bowel. A wetness started to drip down his cheeks and chin, soft sniffles escalated into a full on sob. You sobbed and wailed into the sleeves of your hoodies. Your glasses fogged up, but that was the least of your worries. After the crying softened into small whimpers, you stood up once more and flushed the toilet, walking back into your room. Above your bed was a bulletin board, full of pictures of you and your friends. There's was one of you and Ashley studying together, you and Emily going down to the dance as friends, you helping Jess with her cheerleading routine, you and Matt hugging, Mike playing some stupid prank on you . . . Those didn't catch your attention this time. All you saw was Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Him smiling. Him laughing. Him being the happy person he is. Joshua Washington, your best friend, a very happy person, committing suicide. It just didn't seem right. If you hadn't known better, you would have assumed that it was a murder. You took the tack off of one picture, a picture of you and Josh at prom together, as friends, of course. He would always follow any sort of hand holding with "no homo," even though he was most definitely gay and had said so himself. You held the picture close to your heart, taking a breath in hopes to hold up the remains of your sanity. You went downstairs and left your apartment, heading towards your parents' house to find someone. Anyone. Yet, no one was there for you in your time of need. Week two. You haven't left your apartment in a week. When you get calls from Sam or Ashley, you don't answer. Josh's funeral is in a few days, and you aren't sure if you want to attend. Do you want to see his cold, dead face again? Or do you want to keep the memory of a smiling boy holding your hand alive? You're almost certain you don't want to go on. He's all you can think about, no matter what you do. It's painful and your heart is in a forever heartache. Do you want to go on? Do you want to live in a world without Josh? Without Joshua Washington, your best friend and secret crush? Do you want to live in a world without Josh for the rest of your life? You aren't sure you can. And that's why you're writing a note right now, making plans. You want to make your plans known in the note, so maybe your friends won't be left in the dark like they were with Josh. "Dear whoever is reading this, Whether it's the policemen, my parents, Ashley, Emily, Matt, Mike, Sam, Jess, Hannah, or Beth, I want you to know something. I can't go on without him. Without my best friend and, well, crush. It's not your fault, it's mine for not noticing the signs of his depression, for not taking it seriously. I could've stopped him, but I didn't. I'm a shitty best friend. You don't deserve me as your friend, either. That's why I've swallowed those pills, and why I've left you. I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You're better off without an extremely guilty friend tagging along on your happiness. Signed, Christopher Rivera Hartley." You set the note down on your desk and lay in your bed. Throughout this week, you've had that picture of you and Josh in your hand, and currently it's clutched against your chest as you stare at the dark ceiling. Sleep is too hard to think of right now, so you just stare. Stare and hope that wherever you end up tomorrow, you'll see Josh once again. As of today, you've managed to purchase some acetaminophen products at your local pharmacy. It's the first time in two weeks you've been outside your apartment, as well as the last. When you return to the dull, boring apartment, you headed into the bathroom. You thought that if you should die tonight, might as well look decent. You brush and spike up your hair once more, brush your teeth, and change into one of your blue hoodies. You took the suicide note you wrote last night with you, holding it in the same hand as the picture of you and Josh. You took out a bottle of NyQuil, a bottle of Tylenol, and a bottle of Coricidin. You figure if you take them all then you'll die quicker. You pick up the bottle of Tylenol and look at the label, finding the max you would take is 3,000 m.g., so you decided to take about 4,000 m.g.. You open the bottle and begin to pour out the pills. You're about to drop them in your mouth when you hear something. Something alarming and full of panic. "Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" You're frozen in fear as you glance in the mirror. Green eyes. Empty green eyes, and they aren't your own. A frown placed on it's face, distress is radiating off of it's panic. How do you feel about this? It looks like Josh, and you're convinced you're seeing things. "Man, don't do this. You deserve better," it says, trying to stabilize the panic in it's voice. "Why do you care? You're not real," you answer, rudely. "That's thing. I am real, Chris. God, this was a shitty time to show up but, Cochise, don't do this. Don't walk down my path," it respond. He responded. Hesitantly, you set down the bottle of Tylenol. Why are you listening to this thing? You aren't sure. It just feels right in some sort of way. "You're . . . You're actually Josh, right?" You ask. You're so God damn desperate for just some explanation at this point. Were you in a coma the whole time and right now it's Josh screaming at you to wake up? Like one of those horrible drama movies? And you're stalling yourself from asking this, but could this be the spirit of Josh? Or is this a memory? A hallucination? The point is, you just need comfort. "Yeah, bro, it's me. What's left of me, at least. I should've spoke up earlier, but I wanted to let you grieve first so you wouldn't be in complete shock. I . . . I had to step in this time, though. I thought you wouldn't be stupid enough to do this," he paused and sighed, "Chris, you're smarter than this. What would Ashley say? Or Sam? They can't bare another heartbreak. if you go down, you'll be taking everyone with you. Don't . . . Don't follow me down this path. go down Emily's or Sam's or, hell, even Mike's. Just . . . Stay alive." You pause. You need to think, and think quickly. Maybe you should call the suicide hotline? Sam? Your doctor? None of the above. Instead, you've somehow ended up on the floor, crying once again and struggling to breath. There's a cold touch against your cheek and you hear phone ringing. You aren't sure why, but when you hear Sam's voice, you find yourself crying harder. "Hello? Chris? Is everything okay?" She says, calmly before realizing what's going on, "Chris? What happened? Chris? I'm heading down there and you better open the fucking door." The line goes dead and you find yourself covering your ears and almost beginning to scream when you hear Josh start talking to you to get you to calm down. He gave up after a while and opened the bathroom, you hear him unlock the front door and walk back over to you. he sits by your side until you hear Sam break down the door and skitter into the bathroom with you. She manages to carry you into your bedroom and calm you down enough to sleep. The only thing you can remember before slipping into darkness is the comforting cuddling of something cold. You're guessing it was Josh. Next week. Week three, and you're not mentally stable yet. Josh still lurks around the house, and sometimes he whispers to you or helps you steady yourself. Sam has been staying at your apartment until you're able to get ahold of yourself. As of today, Sam had brought home food from one of her favorite vegan restaurants for dinner. You sat up in bed, finding Josh sitting on his knees next to you, looking at the bulletin board above the bed. Frantically, your search the bed for your picture, the one you've been holding onto for three weeks now and almost never letting go of. Eventually, you found it. Standing up, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen with Sam. "There you are, sleeping beauty. I thought you might never wake up," she gave a playful grin before her voice turned more motherly, "Sit down. We need to talk." There's a panic rising in your throat, but you ignore it and sit down as told, "What is there to talk about?" "You know what I'm talking about, Chris. You called me, screaming and crying. When I got here and finally calmed down, I found your suicide note and all those painkillers. You were going to overdose," she sighed again, "Christopher fucking Hartley, why didn't you tell me? You have friends. You have your parents. You have your whole life ahead of you, you're only seventeen. Almost eighteen. Don't end your path here." You pause for a moment, letting it sink in before giving off a chuckle, "You sound exactly like him sometimes. But, Samantha fucking Giddings, so did he. So did all of us,yet some of us still want to die. It doesn't change anything, Sam. if I'm being honest . . . I'm pretty certain I'm losing my mind." Sam raises an eyebrow, "Continue." "You see . . . I'm pretty sure I saw Josh last night." When you feel a cold sensation on your shoulder, you almost flinch, but instead look up to find a smiling Josh. Just as clear as you remember. Sam almost says something, but instead keeps her mouth shut for a moment. She thought maybe you were just thinking or something, you assumed. "Hey, Cochise. Do me a favor? You see, I have to leave soon. And . . . I know you're not going to want me to leave, but I'm moving on. Here's what I need you to do, okay?" he said, trying to be cheerful. You almost nod, but instead just blink. "Okay, this is going to be asking a lot, but trust me, it'll be worth it in the end. First, I want you to keep our friends group together. Do whatever takes, take my place as the glue that held us all together. The second, I want you to promise me you won't try to follow me again. You're smart, Hartley, you know better. Don't hurt yourself. Third, take care of my sisters, tell Sam this, too. She's closest to them. Lastly . . . I want you to forget about me. Completely. Don't let me invade your life, I'll only hurt you. You'll see me again soon enough. Wait for it," he says the last part as more of a whisper. You could tell he had a hard time trying to tell you to forget about him. You aren't sure what to say before Josh speaks one last time. "There's one thing I want you to remember. Chris, I love you. Not in a 'bro' way, either. Your feelings were never unrequited. And maybe, if we both weren't such stupid kids, I might be alive right now. It's not your fault, and it's not fault. I'll see you in the next life," he presses his cold lips against your forehead, and suddenly the presences of your best friend fades from the room. It becomes warmer, and your heart is thumping hard against your chest as you turn to Sam once again. "Did . . . Did it just get warmer?" She asked in confused, you only nod. "Sam. I wasn't losing my fucking marbles, was I? I swear I just saw him, he was talking to me and everything. I'm pretty sure he called you to stop me from hurting myself and unlocked the door. All of that," your eyes are wide as you speak. The blonde bites her lip to think before responding, "I may be insane for saying this, but you might be right. This is the kind of stuff Hannah loves in all her romance movies, isn't it? Dead lover coming back just to say their last words? But . . . What did he say?" "He wanted me to keep our friends group together. To not hurt myself. To take care of his sisters, told me to tell you that specifically. And . . . and then he told me to forget about him completely. Pretend Joshua Washington never existed. Now, now he's gone. And the last thing he said was that he loved me . . . " You aren't sure how to feel, it feels like your chest is going to collapse under the pressure of this all. "You're worried about what to do next, right?" She asks, surprisingly calm. You nodded in response. "You move on, you do what he asks. Josh was here for a reason, possibly just to make sure you were okay and knew what to do now. Josh was a good guy, he just wanted everyone to be safe. It . . . it is possible he'll visit the others, talk to them. More likely speak with his sisters. Beth has been an absolute mess since everything, and though Hannah is holding it together, she's not much better. I worry for them . . . Emily took it pretty hard, too." You listen to Sam ramble on and on, before you device. For the first time in your life, you're gonna do exactly as someone asks. The wind chimes against the leaves in a distance as you continue walking through the graveyard. It's been a year since you, Christopher Hartley, lost your best friend and crush, Joshua Washington. He told you to forget about him, and you have, for a year. But you can't ignore that same feeling of emptiness in your heart every time you pretend it doesn't bother you. Today, you have decided you're done forgetting. You want to remember, and keep that memory of a beautiful smiling boy in your heart. Spring was upon you, as the grass was muddy from melted snow. It wasn't that hard to find his grave, underneath a large oak tree on a hill. "Joshua Elizabeth Washington 1994 - 2012 "Ghost in the world, ghost with no home. May his home be with the stars.'" You sit down on your knees and take a breath. You wish you got here sooner. "Hey, Josh. It's me, Chris. I know you told me to forget about you, but I can't. It's been a year since you left us and I tried to follow. I still have those times where I wish I had gone through with it. Sam and Beth are dating now. Don't be worried, I already gave her the whole big brother talk you always gave. Ashley has been hitting on me, but I've been pushing her aside. Mike and Jess started dating, and Matt and Emily have been together for almost six months. We're all heading off to college soon. Beth is majoring in botany, Hannah's doing music, and I'm in technology. I don't know about the others, but I think Emily is going to law school. She wants to be a lawyer. Everyone misses you so much. Sam volunteers for suicide hotlines and such often more. She says she does it in your name. I've kept the group together, just as you asked. I've made sure your sisters are safe. I haven't hurt myself since the incident, really. Josh . . ." you sigh deeply, ". . . I miss you so much, bro. I love you." You're getting up and pulling your jacket on tighter when you feel a cold touch against your shoulders and the crisp, jittery, familiar voice. "Hey, Cochise. Told you you'd see me again soon."


End file.
